Allow me to make your day by telling you about my novel, The One That Nearly Killed Me. It’s a brilliant work of 170,000 words, with prologue, or 62,000 without. I’ve taken great care to make sure it meets all the current standards for publication: I’ve used no quotation marks for dialogue, and just for good measure I’ve eliminated half the other punctuation—at random. I think that adds depth, don’t you?
The writing is so dense—but lyrical—no one will be able to understand it enough to realize the plot is cliché. Don’t worry; The Emperor’s New Clothes syndrome will prevent 90% of the critics from admitting the novel is garbage, and my Family has ties to ensure that the other 10% have an “accident” before they can blow the whistle.
Also, there’s no problem with marketing on this one. You can sell it as chick lit, thriller, high fantasy, or even self-help. It’s all in there. Of course, no one will actually read it, but once they’ve bought the book, who cares? Plus, because of that syndrome we talked about, they’ll rave to their friends and … cha-ching!
You’ll notice I didn’t waste your time telling you about the actual story. You don’t really care anyway—do you? The Family’s word is good enough for you, right? Right? I thought so. Oh, another thing, I don’t do contracts, but there will be a little something in it for you.
I’ve attached the entire manuscript, but don’t bother reading it. Just forward it directly to whichever editor is responsible for the most books on the NY Times best sellers list. And if he has any problem with making my book his top priority, tell him I’ll refer him to The Family.
Nice doing business with you.
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